The Dream on The Rock: Visions of Prehistory

A comprehensive twenty four track CD covering this London rock band's full history from 1972-77 that encompasses prog-rock blues, pop, glam, heavy funk and even some post Turquoise influenced psych plus a rare Dutch radio interview from 1975. Detailed history written by Pete Sarfas who saw the band live over fifty times in the early to mid 70s, blowing the lid on the explosive story of how some of Slowbones songs, ideas and even logo were ripped off by the Sex Pistols and Iron Maiden.
Taken from original quarter inch masters, The Real Rock & Roll Swindle highlights the band's song writing strengths by presenting a cornucopia of rare studio gems, catchy singles, forgotten B sides and exhilarating live material…

Having weathered so much adversity in their short career (starting with the demise of their original label and indefinite shelving of their first EP), the members of Red Bank, NJ's the Parlor Mob must be breathing a collective sigh of relief over the release of their first album, And You Were a Crow, in early 2008. If not, then at the very least it seems that the weight of these worries actually benefited the precocious quintet's songwriting, by lending a little extra weight of resolve and authenticity to their rootsy, retro-fueled but nevertheless contemporary sounding hard rock. This stems from a veritable melting pot of '70s influences, which the Parlor Mob go to great lengths to break down into their various basic ingredients before building them back up into exciting groove rockers like "Dead Wrong" and "Real Hard Headed," as well as beguiling, paired-down acoustic numbers such as "Angry Young Girl" and "Can't Keep No Good Boy Down," so that only a few anal retentive music obsessives might recognize their origins.

Crawling Up A Hill is a fascinating document of a genre that, though relatively short-lived, would have a seismic influence on the subsequent development of rock music.

The Police never really broke up, they just stopped working together – largely because they just couldn't stand playing together anymore and partially because Sting was itching to establish himself as a serious musician/songwriter on his own terms. Anxious to shed the mantle of pop star, he camped out at Eddy Grant's studio, picked up the guitar, and raided Wynton Marsalis' band for his new combo – thereby instantly consigning his solo debut, The Dream of the Blue Turtles, to the critical shorthand of Sting's jazz record. Which is partially true (that's probably the best name for the meandering instrumental title track), but that gives the impression that this is really risky music, when he did, after all, rely on musicians who, at that stage, were revivalists just developing their own style, and then had them jam on mock-jazz grooves – or, in the case of Branford Marsalis, layer soprano sax lines on top of pop songs.